


In the Mirror

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Read My Lips [7]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6293176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: <i>Any, Any, likes watching in a mirror.</i> Rodney and John home for the first time on leave from Atlantis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Mirror

Rodney wasn't sure what he was expecting when he stepped into John Sheppard's apartment in Colorado Springs for the first time, but it wasn't what he found. He'd figured out, vaguely, that John's family was ridiculously wealthy, because they'd been able to hire private tutors to help John navigate the deaf world, and they'd privately employed Lorne for John all through college, and someone else all through grad school. So he wasn't surprised that John's apartment was a massive penthouse affair at one of the fanciest joints in town, or that it was filled with heavy, masculine furniture that probably cost more than Rodney would make in an entire lifetime.  
  
What did surprise him was the mirrors. They were everywhere, on any open space where there weren't pictures of John's friends or his framed diplomas. Some were round, some rectangular, some with ornate frames, some without any frames at all.  
  
"Anything you need before I go?" Lorne asked, speaking for Rodney's benefit but signing for John's.  
  
John shook his head, dipped his and raised a hand to his mouth in thanks.  
  
Lorne nodded. "Okay. Enjoy your leave. See you back on base." And he ducked out of the apartment. Rodney was a little nervous to see him go.  
  
After much intense - and patient - tutoring from Lorne, Rodney was perfectly capable of having conversations with John on his own, but this was the first time they'd be alone together for more than a designated Sunday, and Rodney was nervous. For a man who was scrupulously exacting with his math and ran his team of mathematicians like a drill sergeant (John really ran them like a drill sergeant, made them go running with him and Lorne every morning), John was endlessly patient with Rodney, like when Rodney missed one of their lunch or dinner dates, or when Rodney was too distracted by a new problem with the ZPM system that he totally missed how sick and miserable John was and didn't bring him any chicken soup (Lorne remembered, because Lorne was nice like that). Here, for two weeks on Earth, Rodney was basically filled with endless opportunities to screw things up between them by being his stupid, oblivious self.  
  
He defaulted to his most tried-and-true coping technique. Talking. "So, what's up with all the mirrors?" He spoke at the same time as he signed so John could read his lips if his signs were a little too sloppy to understand.  
  
"I can always see around me," John said, aloud, though his voice was soft, and Rodney was startled into silence. "If someone signs, or if someone just wants my attention, I can see them." His hands moved too, but Rodney had never heard him say so many words at once.  
  
Usually the only words John said were, "I love you," and that was as he was falling asleep after love-making, and Rodney carefully hoarded the memories of every single word, because as far as he knew, John only ever spoke to him.  
  
John walked toward him, slow and steady, and Rodney was suddenly aware that for such fancy digs, the hardwood floor was awful creaky.  
  
"I can also tell if anyone is in here with me, or you can get my attention more easily." John stomped one foot to demonstrate, and Rodney felt the rumble across the room.  
  
"Oh. That's really cool. You're lucky you found an apartment like this," Rodney said.  
  
"Not lucky," John said. "I designed it myself. It cost most of what I got from solving the Navier-Stokes problem, but it's worth it."  
  
Rodney blinked. "Navier-Stokes? You...you solved it?"  
  
"It's in my file," John said. "Pretty sure that's why the expedition agreed to let me come along. That and Lorne went through such great pains to teach me to be competent with firearms and hand-to-hand." (He was no match for Ronon or Teyla, but he was certainly more than enough of a match for Rodney.)  
  
Rodney hadn't looked at much in the way of John's credentials when he'd first checked his file, just looked at the math he'd done on computing the energy outputs for ZPMs. Damn. John was a genius. It was one thing to witness John's expertise in the field, another thing to know that John had solved a problem that the STEM community had decided was unsolveable.  
  
For some reason, the thought was incredibly hot.

"So, you should put your stuff down and unpack, take a nap if you want. I can order out for some food," John continued. He prowled closer to Rodney, eyes bright. "Or we can do something more fun."  
  
"More fun?" That was a stupid response. Unpacking was one of the least fun things about travel. Anything was more fun than unpacking.  
  
John caught Rodney by the waist, spun him around so he was facing one of the mirrors on the wall, a full-length one.  
  
"Did you know," John whispered, sliding his hands up Rodney's chest, "that you're beautiful?"  
  
Rodney shuddered at the caress of John's lips against the side of his throat, at John's voice rumbling through his chest. "John," he protested.  
  
"Look at yourself. Do you see what I see?"  
  
Rodney saw himself, awkward, receding hairline, a little pudgy, and John, pressed up behind him, working open the buttons on his shirt with one hand while his other hand slid lower and lower. John was beautiful, with his golden skin and half-lidded eyes and his clever, clever hands.  
  
John's clever hands were making Rodney's brain short-circuit, and his eyes fell closed. He couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips.  
  
"Keep your eyes open," John whispered. "I want you to see, to understand."  
  
Rodney could barely understand anything with the way John's fingers were playing across his skin.  
  
"Watch," John said, "and see how much I love you."  
  
Rodney stared at the mirror, struggling to keep his gaze focused, and then John was kissing him, slowly and thoroughly, and then he was pressed against Rodney's front, his hands hot on Rodney's hips as he nibbled at Rodney's throat, and then his collarbone, and then lower, and he unzipped Rodney's pants with his teeth, and then –  
  
The image of Rodney himself, hanging onto John's shoulders for dear life as John knelt in front of him, dark head bobbing, would be burned into his mind forever. He didn't last long, didn't need to cry out a warning, because John knew when he was close, John always knew without words. John's hands on his hips tightened, and he swallowed Rodney down deep, and Rodney's world turned white, and then John eased Rodney down to the floor before he collapsed.  
  
"Hot damn," Rodney said. He blinked up at the ceiling. "Really? Mirrors up there too?"  
  
John, tucked up beside him, smiled at his reflection and said, "Now, those are just for fun."


End file.
